Page 60 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

The duchess folded the page and moved to the next.

"'In other matters,'" she read aloud. "'Lady Arabella and Lord Alderton continue to orbit one another in a decidedly intriguing manner. I must admit I have not done much research on mating habits, but I plan to rectify that upon my return to London—'" Here the duchess was forced to trail off lest her laughter escape.

She cleared her throat and then continued. "'I have attempted to intervene. But Lady Arabella did not seem grateful for my reasoning.'"

Estella let out a quiet laugh. Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose.

Gage leaned forward, hand outstretched. "May I see it? I've been going through financial documents on my end, and if any names overlap⁠—"

"Of course." The duchess handed the first page of the letter across.

He took it and read through without comment.

"Your Grace," Sebastian said, pulling her back. "If Miss Evermore is right about this Craddock, we'll need the Bishop's registrar to confirm it. That could take —"

"A week. Perhaps longer." The duchess nodded. "We are not in a position to rush this. But we are closer than we were a month ago." She looked around the room. "I shall write to Lord Alderton this evening. He and Lady Arabella should know that progress is being made."

"How much will you tell them?" Estella asked.

"Enough to reassure. Not so much that they do anything rash." She paused, pen in hand. "I shall tell them we are hopeful. That we may be in a position to act within the fortnight."

If all went well, Lady Arabella could be free of Pierce within the month. Of course, that still did not guarantee her safety, but it was a promising start. If they could corner Pierce with allegations of fraud and extortion, there was every chance he could help to make their final connection to Barrington.

"The letter, Mr. Gage," she said, when she noticed he had not yet returned it.

He handed it back without hesitation, his expression perfectly neutral. "Interesting woman, your Miss Evermore."

"She is not my Miss Evermore. She is very much her own person." The duchess sniffed. "I merely provide her with a safe place to be herself."

His lips twitched again as if he were in on some private joke. "Interesting."

Interesting was one word for Thea. And she was grateful that was the adjective he'd landed on.

"Quite," the duchess agreed.

20

The letter from the duchess arrived with the morning post and Arabella read it twice before breakfast.

Progress. Financial connections traced. A solicitor identified. Inquiries being made on several fronts. And the line that lodged beneath her ribs and stayed there: I am hopeful we may be in a position to act within the fortnight.

A fortnight.

She folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket before joining the others downstairs.

She did not tell anyone about the letter. Not yet. She wanted to sit with it a little longer. Hope was such a dangerous little beast, and she had to keep it in check before the others lit up with enthusiasm over the duchess's news.

But the word kept circling. Fortnight. Two weeks and she might be free.

She peeked over at John and Lucy, who were having a quiet and seemingly intense debate over John's choice of cravat.

"I don't see what's wrong with it." John made Lucy giggle when he tucked his chin in an attempt to look down at the cravat.

Arabella pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh of her own.

"It's the color," Lucy insisted. "It doesn't suit you at all. What do you think, Aunt Clarissa?"

And so the great debate over poor John's wardrobe began. Arabella sat back in her seat and sipped her tea, contentedly listening as Clarissa took Lucy's side, Kit grew vehement about how dashing John looked in green, and Thea interrupted it all with the occasional insight on the origins of fashion.